And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake. Transparent Helena! Nature shows art, that through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word is that vile name to perish on my sword!
Do not say so. Lysander, say not so. What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though? Yet Hermia still loves you. then be content.
Content with Hermia? No, I do repent the tedious minutes I with her have spent. Not Hermia, but Helena I love. Who will not change a raven for a dove? The will of man is by his reason swayed, and reasons says you are the worthier maid. (...)